Hard Count (Men of Fall Book 5), page 9
“Do you want to come over to my place tomorrow night?” she asks out of the blue. “I can make us dinner.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m up for that.”
“Cool. Is pasta okay, maybe a nice Alfredo with blackened chicken?”
My stomach grumbles at the thought, and I tell her, “That sounds amazing.”
“Great. Be here by seven?”
“You got it.”
The next day, I’m literally counting down the hours till I get to see Lexi.
Dinner, the movie we went to, just chilling and talking, I like it all. I want to be around this woman all the time. I’m that fucking into her.
Dressed in black running pants, a long-sleeved black tech tee, and athletic shoes, I drive over to her townhouse, my pulse racing in anticipation.
Lexi greets me at the door, looking gorgeous as ever.
Her auburn hair is down and bouncy with soft curls. She has on the sexiest tight jeans and a flouncy sherbet orange top that brings out her vibrant green eyes.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, and before I’m even all the way in the door, she’s in my arms, our lips joined.
“Mmm,” she murmurs, leaning back. “Sorry to accost you, but I freaking missed that.”
Chuckling and brushing her lips with mine, I say softly, “I did too, but mostly I missed you.”
“Mike…” We start kissing once more as I back her into the entry hall, all while awkwardly reaching behind me to push the door closed.
I’m beginning to think we may not make it to dinner, but then a timer in the kitchen dings, and we reluctantly break apart.
Pointing at me as she starts to walk away, Lexi says, “To be continued.”
I chuff, “Yep.”
Following her, my eyes travel down to her amazing ass.
I want those fucking jeans off. I want what lies beneath the blue denim fabric. I want to kiss and lick and make her come like she never has before.
And I think tonight may be the night.
We had a talk about the eventuality of us moving to the next level physically the other day. Neither of us wants to wait too much longer, that’s for sure. Making out is great and all, but we both need and want much more.
We’re clean, and she’s covered on birth control, so really, the only thing holding us back at this point is ourselves.
Tonight, though, if it feels right, I think it will happen.
But first there’s dinner.
“It smells delicious in here,” I remark as we walk into the kitchen.
Lexi heads over to the stove to stir something in a big pot. “Are you hungry?” she asks.
“Starving.”
For more than food, I think as my eyes travel over her supple curves.
Snapping me out of a slew of lustful thoughts that start running through my head, Lexi says, “Go ahead and sit down in the dining room. I’ll bring everything in.”
“You don’t want any help?” I raise a questioning brow.
“Nope.” She quits stirring long enough to look over at me and shake her head. “Though I may take you up on that offer for cleanup.”
“You got it.” I chuckle. “Let me know if you change your mind, though.”
“Okay, I will,” she murmurs.
I take a seat at the dining room table, and minutes later, I’m chowing down on the best blackened chicken Alfredo I’ve ever tasted.
“Holy hell is this good,” I murmur between bites.
“I’m glad you like it,” Lexi says, looking pleased.
“Like it? I love it, babe.”
Softly, she replies, “Thanks.”
After taking a sip of iced tea, I set my glass on the table and tell her, “There is one small problem, though.”
“Uh-oh, what’s that?”
“Not with the food,” I assure her since she’s looking panicked. “It’s just that I was thinking I’d like to make you dinner sometime, but there’s nothing in my repertoire that’s anywhere near this level of excellence.”
“Aw, Mike.” She smiles at me from across the table. “I’m sure whatever you make will be great.”
I laugh. “I don’t know about that, but I’m willing to try. Are you okay with BLTs? I’m pretty good with those.”
“I love BLTs,” she tells me.
It’s not her delicious blackened chicken Alfredo, but it’s something.
Our conversation starts to veer away from food. We talk a little bit about yesterday’s game. Lexi informs me that she watched most of it on TV, but didn’t find it as fun as the first one since I didn’t play.
“It’s also better being at the game,” I remark.
She agrees, “There is that too.”
After dinner, I help her clear the plates and load the dishwasher. She turns it on, then spins around to face me.
With a wicked smile, she asks, “So what do you want to do now?”
Ahh, I like this game.
This is so on.
Crossing my arms over my wide chest, my tech tee tightening over my pecs, I rasp, “I’m up for anything you’re up for.”
“Hmm, in that case, let me think.” She taps her index finger on her chin, pretending to contemplate. Finally, she says, “We could watch some TV?”
“We could.”
“Or…”
I quirk a brow. “Yes?”
“I could show you my bedroom.”
This is going in the direction I hoped it would, so I reply, “I’d like that.”
She shrugs, totally playing up the clueless act.
“We could lie down even; maybe catch up on some rest?”
I have to bust her on that one. “Babe, if we lie down together on your bed, the last thing either of us will be doing is resting.”
Dropping the act, she reaches out, takes my hand, and tells me, “That’s exactly what I’m counting on.”
Game On
I say to Mike, “That’s exactly what I’m counting on,” and his jaw drops.
Good, that’s the response I was hoping for.
I like keeping him on his toes.
His shock only lasts a beat, though, and then he’s whisking me up into his strong arms and carrying me upstairs.
Giggling and loving every minute of it, I direct him to my bedroom. “It’s here on the left.”
We go in, and he tosses me onto the bed playfully.
“Woman, the things I’m going to do to you,” he warns, like a promise.
A promise I’m ready for.
I have been for a while.
Ready to meet him play-for-play, I retort, “And the things I’m going to do back to you.”
“Fuck.”
Yeah, I figured that would leave him pretty much speechless.
I scoot up the bed to turn off the lamp on the nightstand that I left on earlier, but Mike stops me.
“Leave it,” he growls. “I want to see everything, especially when my cock’s in you.”
“Gah!” I groan. “God, I can’t wait for that.”
And I can’t.
I need this man now.
Smirking, Mike tugs his tech tee over his head, exposing all his sculpted, hard muscles. And, damn, there are a lot.
“You look like a Greek god,” I blurt out.
Chuckling, he tosses his shirt aside.
Not wanting to be left behind, I pull my blouse over my head.
When I toss the bright orange garment at Mike, he catches it with ease with one hand.
Balling it up and dropping it to the floor, he growls, “That bra needs to go too.”
I make a salute. “Yes, sir.”
After I undo the snap in the back, the straps fall. But I’m careful to keep the cups in place over my breasts.
“Ready for a show?” I ask in a sultry tone.
Mike swallows hard, nodding and watching my every movement.
Slowly, I let one cup fall away, then the other.
“Jesus,” he murmurs.
Letting my bra drop to the bed, I point over at him. Since fair is fair, I demand, “Lose the pants.”
Now it’s his turn to mock-salute. “You got it.”
First, he kicks off his running shoes, then slips off his socks.
Pretending to tap an imaginary watch, I cluck, “Tick tock. I’m waiting.”
That makes him laugh, a low rumble filled with lust.
Before he starts to lower his running pants, because I want to see every second of that, I ditch my own shoes and socks so fast it’s not even funny.
“Now the real show begins,” I murmur as I sit back against the pillows, ready to take it all in and savor every minute.
Looking smug and quite confident, as he should, Mike takes his time as he rolls his pants down his legs, then steps out of them and kicks them aside.
I gasp in awe as he moves closer to the bed. “Do you like what you see so far?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.” I scoot down to the edge of the bed and kneel, feeling the heat emanating off this hot man.
Licking my lips, my gaze locks on to where he is so fucking long and hard, from what I can see under his gray boxer briefs.
Yeah, those need to go too…and fast.
My sex is throbbing, I want him so badly. Not willing to wait too much longer, I unbutton my jeans and tug them down and off before even waiting for a prompt.
“In a hurry, are we?” Mike chuckles.
“Only to get started,” I freely admit.
“Shit, same here.”
As he takes a step closer, stopping at the side of the bed, I reach out.
We both want this.
No more delays.
He pushes me down and hovers over me.
Gasping, I arch up.
Oh my God, the second our skin touches, it’s all over.
I groan and fall back, pulling him onto me.
His lips find mine, and we grind our bodies together.
Snaking his hand down between us, he slips a finger under my lacy panties.
“So wet,” he rasps.
“Make me wetter,” I command.
“I plan to, sweetheart.”
Sitting up over me, he slowly drags my panties down my legs.
But once he has them about halfway off, I say, “Yours have to go too.”
Continuing with our quid pro quo game, he pulls his boxer briefs down, freeing his bobbing cock.
My eyes find what I so badly want as he rids us both of our pesky undergarments.
Once I’m completely bare for him, he groans, “I want you, woman. More than I’ve ever wanted anything, I swear.”
“I know the feeling.” I run my leg up along his side, urging him back down to me.
He comes to me, pressing his chest to mine, his skin scorching and electric. When his lips meet mine, I’m already half gone with lust.
But this man is just getting started.
He kisses my cheeks, down my neck, sucks one nipple into his mouth, and then moves to the other.
I writhe and gasp beneath his ministrations, sucking in air when he makes his way lower and sends me over the edge with his tongue.
“Still with me?” he asks as he moves back up my body, his lips above mine, his hard length pressing at my folds.
I nod and say the only thing I can think of. “More.”
One push, and I finally get what I want—all of Mike.
All You Need Is Love
I have Lexi so many times, yet it’s still not enough.
We rest here and there but wake up needy for each other again and again.
“So good,” she murmurs from beneath me as I move inside her for the umpteenth time.
“Amazing,” I concur.
And then there’s no more talking. It’s just sex, sex, sex.
When we finally do fall asleep for good, we’re wrapped up in each other’s arms.
We wake up in the morning, snuggling, but then I remember it’s Monday, and I have practice at noon.
I look at the clock on her bedside table and see it’s ten thirty. “Shit.”
“What is it?” she asks groggily.
I tell her about practice, and, still sounding sleepy, she says, “Yeah, I have a shift later today at the steakhouse.”
Nuzzling her neck, I murmur, “Want to meet up after?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Rolling sideways, she hitches her leg over my hip. “My place or yours?”
Adjusting and lowering her to just where she needs to be, I say, “Let’s do mine. We need to christen that house too.”
“Oooh, good idea.”
Those are the last words Lexi gets out before I’m sheathed in her warmth, pumping and thrusting.
We come together, and afterward, she asks, “Do you think we’ll ever feel like we’ve had enough?”
“I don’t think so, babe. Maybe when we’re like sixty.”
She laughs. “I know, right?”
It’s the first time we’ve really brought up that this could be something long term.
But you know what?
It feels right.
The only thing blocking us from having a full-on, out-in-the-open relationship is her dad.
But that’s one big-ass—no, make that huge—obstacle.
Fuck.
The next few weeks are amazing. The Comets play relatively well, winning more than we lose. Although I don’t get to play too much.
That sucks, but Lexi still faithfully attends the home games and watches all the away ones on TV.
Speaking of my girl, she and I spend a lot of time together, mostly at my place or hers to avoid being caught.
That’s okay; staying in gives us more opportunities to love up on each other.
We end up in bed a lot, yeah, but there’s so much more to our relationship. We grow closer and closer with each passing week, sharing and confiding our dreams and our fears.
One afternoon, while we’re taking an autumn walk, not far from where we watched the fireworks back on our first date, I tell her how I don’t know how much longer I’ll be playing professional ball.
She asks me if that scares me, then clarifies, “I mean, like, are you going to be okay with retirement?”
I chuff, “Babe, it’s getting to the point where I have no choice.”
We stop, and I pick up and toss away a branch filled with dead leaves that’s blocking the trail. With the pathway cleared, we continue our stroll.
After a beat, Lexi quietly asks, “What scares you the most?”
Sighing, I share, “I don’t know. I guess it’s that football is all I’ve ever known. It’s my job, and I love it, you know? It’s going to be hard to give it up completely.”
“That makes sense.” Reaching over, she takes and squeezes my hand. “But you don’t have to give it up completely. There’s so much you can do and still be involved with the sport. Like, there’s broadcasting, coaching, scouting…and that’s just to name a few.”
She’s right. It’s not the first time those kinds of opportunities have crossed my mind. For once, though, I try to truly imagine myself doing one of those jobs.
After some contemplation, I shrug. “Hmm, I think I could get into any of those positions.”
Bumping my hip with hers, she says, “Well, you’re certainly good-looking enough to be on TV. So broadcasting should be right up there at the top of the list.”
Chuckling, I say, “Thanks, babe. But I don’t know if that’d be my first choice. I like the scouting idea more.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Sounding excited, she says, “If it really is scouting you’re into, I bet you could get a job with the Comets’ front office. My dad was bitching just the other day that one of our college scouts is moving to a different team after this season.”
That piques my interest, as we could use someone with a better eye for talent. Though our win percentage is up, it’s still not enough for a championship season. There are definitely some holes to fill.
There’s only one issue with her idea—would we end up in this same boat if I stayed on with the Comets, albeit in a different role?
Shaking my head, I say, “If I were to take a job like that with the team, we may be dating on the down low for the rest of our lives.”
“Oh, stop. Besides…” She sighs. “That’s not true at all.”
“How do you mean?” I ask, since I’m genuinely curious as to what she’s thinking.
Releasing a breath, she says, “If you were to work as a scout or some other front office position, the two of us dating would be very different than going out while you’re a player.”
“How so?” I ask.
Stopping and kicking at a big rock jutting out of the dirt along the trail, she says, “There’s a lot more scrutiny on you when you’re a player. You know, with social media and all.”
“That’s true,” I agree, shifting as I stand next to her.
“It’s really all about optics,” she goes on, peering down at the immovable rock. “People would talk, and some of the other players might view us dating as a negative. It just wouldn’t be good for the team.” She looks up at me, meeting my gaze. “But if you’re in a position with the Comets that’s not as high-profile, I don’t see us encountering any major problems. I really don’t think anyone would even care.”
“What about your dad?” I raise a brow. “Would he care?”
“That,” she says as we begin walking once more, “I don’t know. In any case, we’re going to have to tell him about us sometime.”
“True.” I nod. “Especially since we’re getting more serious.”
Slowing to a stop once more, she turns to me. “Are we, Mike?”
“Babe.” I touch her cheek. “I think you already know the answer to that. You’re aware of how I feel about you.”
“I think I know,” she says softly. “But maybe it’s time to tell me.”
I love how this woman is not afraid to say what she wants. And she’s right. Today is as good a time as any—on this trail winding through the woods, surrounded by brilliantly colored leaves and the beauty of nature—to share my feelings with her.
So I do.
Caressing her soft cheek, I say, “I love you, Lexi. I just fucking do.”
That chokes her up, and a single tear runs down her cheek.
As I swipe it away, she tells me, “I love you too, Mike.”
